With Dirty Laundry Piling Up Followers, Marcus Veliz Embraces the Banjo Vibe

A crystalline river flows lazily over rocks, a green hillside rising just beyond it to meet the bluest sky, and Marcus Veliz is clawhammering a hypnotic lick on his banjo in the foreground. “Ever try tuning to the river?” reads the caption to this picturesque reel on his Instagram profile @dirtylaundrytheband. “It might give you a new tune.”

This video, like so many on Veliz’s feed, was taken on one of his “banjo walks” near Reno, Nevada. Veliz likes to go out exploring with his instrument—an RK-OT25-BR, to be exact—when he’s camping or visiting a new city, find a spot that inspires him, and start riffing. “That’s just meditation, chill vibes,” he says. “You’re just trying to kind of tap in. You never know what’s gonna happen.”

The 26-year-old banjo phenom was born in Portland, Oregon, but grew up outside Sacramento in Orangevale, California, where he still lives…sometimes. Life has become more transient these days as he roams freely, a skateboard and banjo in tow, meeting and collaborating with fellow musicians all along the West Coast. His Dirty Laundry project (which sometimes includes other musicians) has drawn nearly 24,000 followers to his Instagram page since he picked up the banjo around three years ago. A musician since childhood, Veliz says the banjo is the latest in a long line of instruments after trumpet, autoharp, fiddle, accordion, spoons, and guitar, and it’s the one that has really stuck.

 

“I tell most people, with the banjo, I already knew how much effort you would need to put into something that’s new. So, when I picked it up, I expected it to take a while, but it kind of just loved me back,” he says. “I probably only had one day off that whole first year. It was really easy. It showed me a bunch.”

While many artists begrudgingly use social media to do the obligatory promotion of their music and upcoming shows, Veliz has wholeheartedly wrapped his arms around it and is using it to carve out a place for himself before ever even releasing a record. In a conversation from the backseat of his car, Veliz expands on what drew him to the instrument, his DIY approach, and what’s next for his music career.

BGS: What was it that made you pick up the banjo?

Veliz: There’s a lot of different things. It was always kind of around. I had a best friend whose dad was a big influence. They’d play Flatt & Scruggs and other stuff. There’s a band called Rail Yard Ghosts, and I got into them and their lead singer—Riley Coyote—the way he plays banjo made me think you didn’t have to just pick, you could do something new with it. I got one and saw what happened, right away started trying clawhammer style and just didn’t take a break from it for like a year. It just kinda clicked. My first banjo was 15 bucks. I went on the letgo app and found one in a town over. They had it as a wall hanging decoration. Everything was there, I just put new strings on it.

 

 

You mentioned Flatt & Scruggs and Rail Yard Ghosts. Who have been some of your other influences?

Stringbean from Hee Haw is really big to me. Grandpa Jones. They just have a jokey-ness about them. Stringbean has these long suspenders that are way down by his ankles and a long shirt, so he just looks super weird, but it’s on purpose. Grandpa Jones has funny banjo songs, too, but they’re both clawhammer style. Then there’s this dude Dock Boggs, he’s like two-finger-style picking, but his playing is just completely rhythmic and different.

In the first year [I was playing banjo], I conveniently got to see Steve Martin, and the Steep Canyon Rangers were with him, so that was a big gnarly experience. All those clawhammer players and seeing old videos of it and stuff, and just the history of it. I started dipping into the gourd banjos in Africa, you got the Caribbean roots and stuff. There’s just too much there for me to leave alone.

You’ve been playing music since middle school. Were you in any bands?

There were probably two, but we never did anything at all. It was just going to a friend’s house and playing and stuff. Then I fell into a whole thrash metal, death metal thing for a long time and got really technical on guitar. And I was doing folk around the same time as kind of an outlet, and then that just kinda took over.

 

 

So, thrash metal, punk, folk music, bluegrass, African and Caribbean—are you pulling from these influences when you’re writing or even just noodling, or are you trying to create your own sound?

I feel like I’m making my own lane in a way. I’ll listen to others saying I’m making a new sound, but I won’t say that I’m making a new sound. It’s refreshing and cool to hear, but I also know anybody that picks up a banjo and plays like clawhammer or two-finger style isn’t gonna sound the same, so it’s hard for me just listening to myself to be able to say anything like that. When I pick it up, I let it do its thing now.

How do you describe your style?

The best way I can describe it is, it’s a vibe. It gives you a mood. I’ve heard other people say it and I think it’s just the easiest way to explain it. It’s all over the place. There’s a lot of songs on guitar that don’t have bridges, but it works better without it. I hate bridges. When it stays like this verse-little thing-verse-bigger thing, but no bridge, it becomes just a vibe, like a lo-fi beat. It doesn’t change, it just keeps going. Dirty Laundry, I always tell people, it’s an idea of sound and vibe. It’s this living entity that I serve. I would just like to please “it,” this idea of sound.

Guided by feeling more than technical prowess?

Yeah, it’s all feels.

 

 

What does Dirty Laundry mean?

Dirty Laundry is kind of my outlet for shit, stuff you’re working through in life, just growing.

You’ve used Instagram and social media to build your audience. How organic or strategic was that?

For the Dirty Laundry project, as far as Instagram, I think I was on there in 2016 even, but it was all guitar-oriented and small. Then [a few years later], Charlie Marks—he’s a banjo player in Reno—we hit each other up and decided to get together and play, so I finally went out there. And I was asking him, “How are you blowing up on Instagram?” and he was like, “Dude, just start posting reels.” It was also a good time for that, so I started doing it. Just every other day, go post something. Then after a while it just started snowballing. It’s been wild.

It’s algorithmic stuff, too, cause if you’re gonna post something in a certain area and tag the place, it’s gonna work with the [other stuff for that tag]. I always wanna put my print that I’ve been here, played in your park. It’s gonna show up on everyone’s feed. There’re people that will post the updates of the algorithm and how it’s gonna work, so you can get smart around that stuff. But it’s kind of more a scavenger hunt in places I’ve been. I’m definitely trying to do some album work in the future. Right now, it’s just kinda been a blessing because I’ve been able to play all these places and not have an album and open for people with nothing.

You’re sort of subverting the traditional process in favor of a truly independent approach, while also subverting assumptions or expectations about what the banjo has to be.

There are definitely some fools watching, managers reaching out. It’s cool, but it’s also like, who else is looking? Makes you want to be hungrier for it.

 

 

How do you feel about TikTok?

I had one and I deleted it because it didn’t feel right. TikTok feels like you post something for it to be seen, but no one really goes to see more of it… I feel like there’s more incentive with Instagram to go to a page and see all the videos, to sit on a page and look at everyone’s content. TikTok’s just built to scroll and leave. I already feel like I have too many people where I’m just their pocket banjo guy.

Is there a scene you’ve experienced on your travels that you want to carve out space for yourself in, or is it more important to you to hang back and establish a stronger one where you already are/where it’s maybe more needed?

A bit of both. Everyone needs to leave their hometown to do something or become something. But definitely New Orleans, with artists like Rail Yard Ghosts and other folk punk, I definitely want to go out there and see if I can even hang with all the other musicians out there that are making a living out of playing on the street. I would like to earn my badge out there. And go to the East eventually and just play everything over there that I can.

I’m more Sacramento area, and there’s still a whole bunch of indie sounds going on. It’s like indie hardcore, and like dad rock bands. It’s not bad for the banjo folk scene. You’re definitely going other places for it, traveling to see better parts of it. But I see it coming up again because of Billy Strings and Sierra Ferrell.

All the heavy hitters I’m definitely watching and observing, taking notes. There’s also this small group in this area, like Charlie Marks, Two Runner, Bar Jay Bar, Water Tower Band. This is all California area. There’s just a bunch of local folk people that are on this side of the coast. It’s funny how we’re lumped in with each other, like we’re all just different corners of the same cloth and we’re all representing folk on the West Coast.

Stone and Sue, they’re like a moving picture from the 1920s. I’m kind of waiting for them to take over. They’re in Oregon. They just play super old-style stuff. I’m so happy to see a band like them. I feel like I have my hands full with so much old stuff. I’m researching still, from ‘20s or ‘30s, so it’s hard to keep an eye on all the stuff going on. I’m still trying to meet Matt Heckler, people like that. It’s all gonna happen eventually.


Photo Credit: Ryan Joseph Moody

The ‘Anarchist Gospel,’ According to Sunny War

Sunny War’s stunning new album, Anarchist Gospel, is never preachy, because it doesn’t need to be. War’s evocation of both anarchy and gospel in this context is strikingly grounded, blossoming from everyday understandings and interactions with each concept. And deeper still, in these sweeping, grand arrangements built on sturdy bones of fingerstyle, folk-informed right-hand guitar techniques, she indicates actions really do speak louder than words. 

These songs are active. Bold, resplendent, and broad with dense, fully-realized production leading to tender, contemplative, and microscopic moments, War draws from her lived experiences, her days and years navigating poverty, living unhoused, sheltering in abandoned buildings, relying on and offering mutual aid, to direct messages of hope, resilience, resistance, and joy, not just to us, her listeners, but also to herself. 

Perhaps that’s why, in this collection of songs born out of a harrowing and challenging emotional, spiritual, and mental period of Sunny War’s more recent past, there is so much hope in hopelessness, a constant – though sometimes minute – light shimmering at the end of the tunnel. Anarchist Gospel isn’t preaching at us, because she is compassionately, kindly, and tenderly talking to herself. And we all, as listeners, audience members, and fans, are just so fortunate enough to be brought into this internal dialogue, from which we can learn and challenge ourselves, and each other, to make a better world for everyone right now. 

It’s a record whose underpinning moral-to-the-story is never burdensome or heavy, but rather uplifting and soaring, exactly as an Anarchist Gospel ought to be. We began our Cover Story interview connecting with Sunny War at home in Chattanooga over the phone, discussing how anarchy is not simply an academic concept, but a real, everyday practice.

I know that in your life, anarchy isn’t just a concept, it has a very real, concrete application in your day-to-day. I think first of your work with Food Not Bombs and the mutual aid work you’ve done in Los Angeles – and wherever you’ve lived. A lot of people right now, especially in younger generations, have frames of reference for anarchy and collectivism and mutual aid work, but usually in the abstract. As if these concepts can only be for some imagined future. So why is anarchy something you wanted to represent in the album and its title, and what does the concept of anarchy mean in your life?

Sunny War: The album title isn’t really political, to me. I felt like the big choruses [on the album] felt gospel in a way, but it wasn’t religious so I felt like it was Anarchist Gospel. It was really because of the one song, “Whole,” where I just felt like the message of the song was kind of about anarchy, in a way that most people could understand. I guess I’m more of a socialist now, but it’s the same sentiment. I just want people to have what they need. That’s more what anarchy means to me. It seems like it’s government that’s in the way of people getting what they need. 

For me, it’s more personal. When I was homeless, a lot of times we would be living in abandoned buildings and we’d get arrested for that. Anarchy, to me, means, “Why can’t we be here? Nobody else is going to be in here. Why are you keeping us from this?” It feels weird that we don’t get to claim where we live, but other people do. Why do they have more rights to the same places? I don’t know if that’s anarchy, so much as I just think people have a right to everything. 

It feels like there’s this agnosticism to the album, this come-togetherness, as something we can all feel and inhabit without necessarily being called to by a higher power. We really can all realize, whatever our starting points, that all we have is each other.

I’m not against people that need God, or whatever. I’ve been in places where I’ve felt like I wanted to believe in that before, so I can relate to where that comes from. But then, I don’t know… [Laughs] Whether it’s religious or spiritual, I don’t know. 

This sounds like a record where we’re all supposed to be singing along. Part of that is the gospel tones, the title but also in the genre and production style, but part of it is also the messages here. Uplifting people from darkness, hope in hopelessness – so to me, so many moments on this album feel like church! 

I love church! I grew up in church – well, I don’t love church, but I love gospel. I still listen to gospel and I guess I’m being nostalgic, but also it just slaps. That’s just good music. If you like original R&B, it’s the basis of so much of American music. I wish it was a little more, I dunno… I guess I wish it wasn’t religious. [Laughs] Then I’d really be into it. But it’s cool how it is. 

In the moments in this record that feel like they’re at the lowest point, I still hear so much hope. I hear surrender in this album, not the kind that’s giving up, but the kind that feels generative and hopeful – especially in “I Got No Fight” and “Hopeless” and “Higher.”

This record was a lot of me talking to myself. It’s definitely the loneliest I’ve ever been writing something. Every other album I’ve ever made, I was in a relationship. This was different. After me and my ex broke up, I wasn’t even really socializing with my friends, because we had the same friends and I was embarrassed about our break up. I was so bitter, I didn’t want to be around anyone. I felt like I couldn’t be around anyone. I was barely leaving the house, I was isolating myself and got really morbid. I wasn’t turning lights on. [Laughs] I would sit in the dark a lot, I was lighting candles – [Laughing] I don’t really know what was going on, but it was mostly bad, I would drink a lot, and then I’d be like, “I’m drinking too much, I gotta get sober.” It would just repeat over and over again. But I was desperately trying to finish the album, because I was broke. I had the deal with New West, but I still had to produce the album before anything could get rolling. It was just what I had to do, but I was also going insane at the same time, and really angry. 

Do you feel like making the record brought closure to any of that for you? I feel like I can hear a release of tension in this album, but I wonder where that comes from, because so many of the songs, individually, have these big, emotional releases. How does it feel to be at this point, looking back with the clarity you have now?

The second I wrote “I Got No Fight” I remember immediately feeling better. I made the demo, and afterwards it made me feel like I was just having a tantrum. But it was like I had to make the song to really understand what I was going through. After making the demo, I realized, “I am just freaking out, I think I’m having a panic attack.” After hearing this song, it helped me understand like, “This is not real, this is just a temporary feeling.” But I couldn’t really feel anything else until after that. 

I have spent so much time over the past couple years trying to teach myself that the point of feelings is to feel them.

Yeah, but they suck most of the time. [Laughs] I don’t want most of them. 

The line in that song, “Sometimes the end is the only light I see,” might be my favorite line on the record. There’s nihilism and existentialism in it, but it doesn’t feel hopeless or despairing. It’s kind of a cheerful, “Oh right! Nothing matters!” Where did that line come from for you? 

That gets me through the day, a lot. Sometimes I think of life as just a jail sentence and I always think like, “Well, I probably am only going to live fifty more years at the most.” Sometimes that helps me get through the day. [Laughs] I know that that sounds negative, but that can really be uplifting if you chose for it to be!

It feels a lot lighter, to me at least, once you realize that nothing matters. Suddenly you can laugh a little bit more, improvise more – like lately, I’ve been trying to accept that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m trying to get comfortable with it. In my twenties, I felt like I was trying to make plans all the time, planning so far into the future and just getting disappointed with stuff. It’s better to [recognize] – which is almost like religious people – you’re just powerless. Just try to eat something, drink some water. [Laughs] 

Let’s talk about your guitar playing. I love your right hand so much. I think what’s entrancing about your guitar on this album is that it’s holding these songs together, but not as much as a rhythmic instrument or comping instrument, like in your past records. It’s more textural, to add depth and complexity, but your playing is still so hooky, melodically. Your personality comes through the guitar on top of all of these tracks. How did you accomplish that balance, having the guitar front and center and immediate, but it’s also not necessarily the centerpiece of these songs?

I think it’s because this is the first record where I knew how to use Logic, so my demos were almost full tracks already. I was adding keyboard and bass and programming drums to things before even going into the studio. A lot of the songs are all based on riffs that I’ve had for a while, that I couldn’t figure out how to use. Before, a lot of my other stuff, I was just writing a song. Now, I just collect guitar parts and I try to make them work in something, but I don’t really have a [plan for them, initially.] I’m basing it more off the guitar parts now. 

How do you like the banjo? Is this the first time you had banjo on a record? 

Yeah!

What do you think writing on the banjo leads you to that a guitar or keys or writing on another instrument wouldn’t lead you to?

Anything that’s tuned differently makes me have to think differently about stuff. I still don’t really “get” the banjo, it’s weird because I have had a banjo for over 10 years now, but it still seems like something I’m trying to learn about. I just recently got okay with being like, “I’m just going to make sounds with it.” I’m not going to try to “learn” it. [Laughs] I definitely want to make more songs with the banjo – and maybe even without a guitar, and see what that’s like. Some of my favorite buskers I’ve ever seen are just a singer with a banjo. I think it makes people sing different. I gotta get my banjos out now… 

Guitar culture – guitar shop culture, guitar show culture – it’s such a toxically masculine scene, and it’s so competitive and punishing, that I kind of have realized over the past few years that the people helping me realize I still love the guitar and guitar culture are all women and femmes. Like, Jackie Venson, Molly Tuttle, folks like Celisse and Madison Cunningham, or like Kaki King and Megan McCormick and Joy Clark – I can think of so many guitarists who aren’t just really good, but they’re also pushing the envelope, they’re innovating, and they have really strong perspectives and voices on the instrument, like yourself. So I wanted to ask you about your own relationship with guitar culture and the guitar scene, because as a queer banjo player who loves music, I kinda hate people who love guitar. But I’ve been so grateful that all these women are reminding me I can love guitar and it’s not just a patriarchal, toxically masculine instrument and scene.

I just try to stay out of it. Sometimes at shows, guitar guys talk to me and I just tell them, “I don’t know. I don’t know.” [Laughs] Because I don’t want to get into any discussion about it. I know a lot of people who can really play, but [guitar guys] make it so you have to be kinda crazy, kinda obsessive. And it’s so competitive. That doesn’t sound fun to me. I don’t get how that’s fun anymore. It’s not art, at that point. It’s almost like a sport. Which you can, go ahead and practice scales all day so you can play the fastest, but then a lot of times people can be really technically good, but there’s no soul in it. They’re just trying to cram as many riffs into something as possible. They take all the art out of it, they’re technically playing perfectly, but I don’t feel anything. 

I would much rather be listening to my favorite guitar player, who is Yasmin Williams. It’s not just because of technical ability, but because it’s progressive. I’m like, “That’s outta the box, I don’t know where that’s going.” That’s what I like about it. 


Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

WATCH: Travis McNamara, “So Far Gone”

Artist: Travis McNamara
Hometown: Denver, Colorado
Song: “So Far Gone”
Album: Moon Calendar
Release Date: March 10, 2023

In Their Words: “This song came when I was feeling really stuck inside during the pandemic alone, and wanted to move some energy. I was learning some old-time clawhammer tunes, and was playing in Double C tuning a lot. I had just bought a Telecaster electric guitar and was getting some big fuzzy tones out of it that I wanted to capture. The arrangement just kept growing and growing, as I kept hearing and adding more instruments — accordion, piano, shakers, glockenspiel, drums — anything I could get my hands on. I think I just wanted to experience big sound again. Lyrically, I had just heard news of a close friend passing away during the pandemic, a former bandmate of mine whom I loved dearly. He clearly made an appearance. I still hear the desire for freedom and expansiveness in there.” — Travis McNamara


Photo Credit: Preston Utley

LISTEN: Steven Moore, “A New Leaf”

Artist: Steven Moore
Hometown: Originally from Bethesda, Ohio; reside in St. Clairsville, Ohio
Song: “A New Leaf”
Album: Just a Little Talk With Myself
Release Date: September 16, 2022
Label: Tiger Spa

In Their Words: “‘A New Leaf’ is my personal favorite track from my debut solo album. It has a certain warm, feel-good contentment about it, with subtle indications that things weren’t always that way. But with this tune, the focus remains forward and unburdened. A clean slate, an exciting change in circumstance, or a new infatuation — optimism prevails and things are (finally) looking up. With the excitement of a new beginning, I decided this tune would be a great opening track for the album, much like this debut solo album is an exciting new beginning for me.” — Steven Moore


Photo Credit: Danielle Moore

Curl Up With New Books by Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, Margo Price, and More

It’s that time of year when the world falls in love, when we dust off “Pretty Paper” for its annual spin, and of course … recollect the best work of the past year. In that spirit, here is a round-up of 16 music-related books from 2022, with topics ranging from the banjo to The Byrds.

The Birth of Rock ‘n’ Roll: The Illustrated Story of Sun Records and the 70 Recordings That Changed the World, Peter Guralnick, Colin Escott

Some would contend that Chuck Berry, not Elvis Presley, should be considered the “King of Rock and Roll.” That aside, Sun Records certainly put a stamp on the budding industry, and this book offers a look into its history with 70 iconic recordings by Elvis, Howlin’ Wolf, B.B. King, Jerry Lee Lewis, and more. Jerry Lee Lewis himself wrote the foreword.


Build a House, Rhiannon Giddens

This illustrated book celebrates the determination and triumph of Black people in the face of oppression. It follows an enslaved family that “will not be moved.” The book contains lyrics from the song Rhiannon Giddens wrote, by the same name, to commemorate the 155th anniversary of Juneteenth. Illustrations are by Monica Mikai.


The Byrds: 1964-1967, Roger McGuinn, Chris Hillman, and David Crosby

The Byrds members Roger McGuinn, Chris Hillman, and David Crosby came together to curate this hefty 400-page art book that gives a visual and oral history of (and from) the original era of the band. The book comes in three editions: a standard edition with no signatures, a deluxe edition with signatures from McGuinn and Hillman, and a super deluxe version for which Crosby even provided his John Hancock.


Deep In the South: A Music Maker Songbook, Tim Duffy, Chuck Reece, and Earle Pughe

This songbook and CD compilation from the Music Maker Foundation, a non-profit founded in 1994 to “preserve and support” roots music of the South, brings together songs, stories, photographs and sheet music/guitar tabs from the likes of Etta Baker, Little Freddie King, Alabama Slim, Beverly “Guitar” Watkins, and more. It promises to take you on “a musical road trip through the South.”


How to Write a Song That Matters, Dar Williams

Dar Williams has led songwriting retreats for both beginners and professionals for many years. Now, How to Write a Song That Matters gives songwriters access to these lessons in book format. Songwriters looking for a “formula” for writing “hit songs” can skip. Williams instead focuses on tapping into the writer’s own creativity and unique experiences to make meaningful songs.


Live Forever: The Songwriting Legacy of Billy Joe Shaver, Courtney S. Lennon

Courtney S. Lennon describes Billy Joe Shaver as “country’s music unsung hero.” Shaver wrote all but one song on Waylon Jennings’ 1973 album Honky Tonk Heroes, considered a foundational work in the genesis of the “outlaw country” subgenre. If that credential on its own isn’t enough, the author dedicates the entirety of Live Forever to shed light on Shaver’s accomplishments, giving him the credit he’s due.


Maybe We’ll Make It: A Memoir, Margo Price

Parts of Margo Price’s memoir may be relatable for aspiring singer-songwriters: long tours with little to no payoff, busking, open-mic nights, and struggling to make ends meet. But much like her music, her memoir is written with an authentic, singular voice. She opens up more about loss, motherhood, drinking, her songs, and much more.


Me and Paul: Untold Stories of a Fabled Friendship, Willie Nelson and David Ritz

Me and Paul: Untold Stories of a Fabled Friendship chronicles the relationship between Willie Nelson and his longtime drummer, Paul English. Willie’s classic song “Me and Paul,” (released on the 1971 album, Yesterday’s Wine) gave us a primer on the misadventures of these pals, but the conversational book promises to go deeper and reveal the … well… “untold stories” of their time together.


The Music Never Stops: What Putting on 10,000 Shows Has Taught Me About Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Magic, Peter Shapiro with Dean Budnick

Have you ever wondered what goes into putting on shows for the most celebrated acts in the music industry and what really goes on behind the scenes? Well, Peter Shapiro has been there, and in this book he shares the story of how he became one of the most successful concert promoters in the business. Looking back on 50 of his iconic concerts, Shapiro shares backstage stories, photographs, and insights to what it’s like working with big names such as Bob Dylan, The Grateful Dead, U2, Lauryn Hill, Al Green, The Roots, Jason Isbell, Robert Plant, Leonard Cohen, and more.


The Philosophy of Modern Song, Bob Dylan

So… Dylan may have not “personally” hand-signed the copies that customers of the $600 edition expected. Nonetheless, it seems he put a lot of work and thought into writing the actual book. According to publisher Simon & Schuster, Dylan began penning it back in 2010. The book contains over 60 essays that dissect songs by other artists, including Nina Simone, Elvis Costello, and Hank Williams. The music Dylan explores spans many genres. He even finds common ground with bluegrass and heavy metal.


Rock’s In My Head: Encounters With Phil Spector, John & Yoko, Brian Wilson, and a Host of Other People Who Should Be Just as Famous, Art Fein

Art Fein has held many roles in the music industry. He’s been a music journalist, album producer, worked for labels, hosted a music-themed public access TV show (Art Fein’s Poker Party), and more. In this book, Art shares some of the wild experiences he’s had in his career including spending a week with John Lennon and Yoko Ono, coaching Lennon on “old rock and roll” that he wasn’t exposed to in Liverpool.


Rudy Lyle: The Unsung Hero of the Five-String Banjo, Max Wareham

Max Wareham shares the legacy of a lesser-known banjo player, Rudy Lyle, through interviews with other prominent banjo players and members of Lyle’s family. The book analyzes 19 instrumental breaks Lyle played with the legendary Bill Monroe. BGS wrote about, and previewed a chapter of Rudy Lyle: The Unsung Hero of the Five-String Banjo ahead of its August release.


This Is What It Sounds Like: What the Music You Love Says About You, Susan Rogers and Ogi Ogas

Susan Rogers has a fascinating résumé. She was the lead engineer on Prince’s Purple Rain and worked on records by The Barenaked Ladies and David Byrne (to name a few). She’s also an award-winning professor of cognitive neuroscience. It’s this unique set of experiences that gives her the ability to, as she says, determine one’s “listener profile,” and scientifically dissect why certain songs move certain people.


Unspeakable: Surviving My Childhood and Finding My Voice, Jessica Willis Fisher

Jessica Willis Fisher fronted a band made up of her parents and her 11 siblings. The Willis Clan found fame on America’s Got Talent in 2014. During that performance, the children charmed America while their fundamentalist Christian father lurked backstage, hiding an ugly truth. In this memoir, Fisher discusses finding her voice after years of being silenced by her abusive father, Toby Willis.


Well of Souls: Uncovering the Banjo’s Hidden History, Kristina R. Gaddy

Kristina Gaddy traces the banjo’s roots back to the 17th century when enslaved people with African descent created them from gourds, calabashes or wood. As future generations were sold to slave owners in other countries, the banjo became prevalent around the world, even though its origins are often overlooked and misunderstood today. Through archival research and seeking out letters and diaries, Gaddy describes the banjo’s journey over the last 200 years and educates the reader of the instrument’s place in American slave gatherings and Blackface routines. Rhiannon Giddens offers a foreword.


Word for Word, Rodney Crowell

After publishing a memoir in 2012, Rodney Crowell now gives readers a peek into a legendary songwriter’s process and history. The book documents his handwritten lyrics, the notes he made while writing the songs, and numerous personal photos. It also features commentary from Rosanne Cash, whom he worked with both before and after their 13-year marriage. Crowell shares, in his own words, his memories of collaborations with Guy Clark, Emmylou Harris, and others throughout his illustrious career.

Top 10 Sitch Sessions of the Past 10 Years

Since the beginning, BGS has sought to showcase roots music at every level and to preserve the moments throughout its ever-developing history that make this music so special. One of the simplest ways we’ve been able to do just that has been through our Sitch Sessions — working with new and old friends, up-and-coming artists, and legendary performers, filming musical moments in small, intimate spaces, among expansive, breathtaking landscapes, and just about everywhere in between. But always aiming to capture the communion of these shared moments.

In honor of our 10th year, we’ve gathered 10 of our best sessions — viral videos and fan favorites — from the past decade. We hope you’ll enjoy this trip down memory lane!

Greensky Bluegrass – “Burn Them”

Our most popular video of all time, this Telluride, Colorado session with Greensky Bluegrass is an undeniable favorite, and we just had to include it first.


Rodney Crowell and Emmylou Harris – “The Traveling Kind”

What more could you ask for than two old friends and legends of country music reminiscing on travels and songs passed and yet to come, in an intimate space like this? “We’re members of an elite group because we’re still around, we’re still traveling,” Emmylou Harris jokes. To which Rodney Crowell adds with a laugh, “We traveled so far, it became a song.” The flowers were even specifically chosen and arranged “to represent a celestial great-beyond and provide a welcoming otherworldly quality … a resting place for the traveling kind.” Another heartwarming touch for an unforgettable moment.


Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan – “Some Tyrant” 

In the summer of 2014, during the Telluride Bluegrass Festival we had the distinct pleasure of capturing Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan’s perfectly bucolic version of “Some Tyrant” among the aspens. While out on this jaunt into the woods, we also caught a performance of the loveliest ode to summertime from Kristin Andreassen, joined by Aoife and Sarah.


Rhiannon Giddens – “Mal Hombre”

Rhiannon Giddens once again proves that she can sing just about anything she wants to — and really well — with this gorgeously painful and moving version of “Mal Hombre.”


Tim O’Brien – “You Were on My Mind”

Is this our favorite Sitch Session of all time? Probably. Do we dream of having the good fortune of running into Tim O’Brien playing the banjo on a dusty road outside of Telluride like the truck driver in this video? Definitely.

Enjoy one of our most popular Sitch Sessions of all time, featuring O’Brien’s pure, unfiltered magic in a solo performance of an original, modern classic.


Gregory Alan Isakov – “Saint Valentine”

Being lucky in love is great work, if you can find it. But, for the rest of us, it’s a hard row to hoe. For this 2017 Sitch Session at the York Manor in our home base of Los Angeles, Gregory Alan Isakov teamed up with the Ghost Orchestra to perform “Saint Valentine.”


The Earls of Leicester – “The Train That Carried My Girl From Town”

In this rollicking session, the Earls of Leicester gather round some Ear Trumpet Labs mics to bring their traditional flair to a modern audience, and they all seem to be having a helluva time!


Sara and Sean Watkins – “You and Me”

For this Telluride session, Sara and Sean Watkins toted their fiddle and guitar up the mountain to give us a performance of “You and Me” from a gondola flying high above the canyon.


Punch Brothers – “My Oh My / Boll Weevil”

The Punch Brothers — along with Dawes, The Lone Bellow, and Gregory Alan Isakov — headlined the 2015 LA Bluegrass Situation festival at the Greek Theatre (a party all on its own), and in anticipation, the group shared a performance of “My Oh My” into “Boll Weevil” from on top of the Fonda Theatre in Hollywood.


Caitlin Canty feat. Noam Pikelny – “I Want To Be With You Always”

We’ll send you off with this delicate moment. Released on Valentine’s Day, Caitlin Canty and Noam Pikelny offered their tender acoustic rendition of Lefty Frizzell’s 1951 country classic love song, “I Want to Be With You Always.”


Dive into 8 of our favorite underrated Sitch Sessions here.

BGS Class of 2022: Musical Moments from Joni Mitchell, Molly Tuttle, and More

Whether you’ve been following the Bluegrass Situation for 10 years or 10 days, you’ve likely noticed that we cover more than bluegrass. That’s especially evident in our BGS Class of 2022, a retrospective written by our contributors that includes numerous familiar faces, a couple of superstars, and even a few surprises. (And you can probably tell that we’re fans of live music.) Here are our favorite moments of 2022, listed alphabetically and enthusiastically.

Banjos, Banjos, and More Banjos

For banjo lovers, 2022 offered an array of styles and inspirations. Jake Blount explored Afrofuturism on The New Faith, while Caamp’s Evan Westfall channeled his Ralph Stanley influences into the Americana-leaning album Lavender Days. Pharis & Jason Romero embraced a folk sound in “Cannot Change It All,” Tray Wellington indulged his interest in jazz on Black Banjo, and Leyla McCalla related her Haitian heritage in songs like “Fort Dimanche.” Could banjos be the great unifier? — Craig Shelburne


Big Thief, “Spud Infinity”

With its bounding cartoon mouth harp and Adrienne Lenker’s hound dog howl, this standout on Big Thief’s double album, is a goof on Americana tropes, a funny embrace of the kookier sides of early Dylan or maybe Country Joe & the Fish. The song’s odd climax is the bemused realization that you can’t kiss your own elbows: “They’re on their own!” Lenker declares. How the band manages to pivot from such silliness to a genuinely moving existential query is a cosmic bit of choreography. — Stephen Deusner


Black Artists in Country Music

Forty years ago I wrote a review of Big Al Downing’s LP on the Team label for the Bridgeport Post-Telegram (today the Connecticut Post). I got two letters — one from (I presume) a white man saying, “N-words don’t sing country music. Why did they print your crap?” The other came from a Black guy saying, “You’re a great writer. Write about OUR MUSIC.” I know he’d be thrilled at the presence of so many Blacks in country today, and at videos like Jimmie Allen’s poignant ‘Down Home.’ It’s about life, love, country things and every bit as much about Black life as any ghetto saga or rap chronicle. Seeing it always makes me happy and seeing him and other Black stars excel in country reaffirms it is AMERICAN music, period. — Ron Wynn


Kate Bush’s Second Run and Sam Bush’s Radio John

If this year gave us one thing to be especially grateful for, it was the return of Kate Bush, whose 1986 earworm “Running Up That Hill” was inescapable following its prominent inclusion in Season 4 of Stranger Things. Suddenly Kate was almost everywhere (though to some of us she never really went anywhere but I digress…). Even my 16-year-old niece suddenly knew about “Cloudbusting” and “Wuthering Heights,” to my great joy. But Kate wasn’t the only Bush to make an impact in 2022. A more familiar face to BGS fans, the Sam variety of Bush released a beautifully personal tribute, titled Radio John, for his friend and musical icon John Hartford. While the Bushes’ music couldn’t be more diametrically opposed, the “Bushaissance” was a welcome reminder that some of our most legendary artists continue to be as prolific and relevant as ever. — Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs at Brooklyn Bowl Nashville

This March 15 show began as a statement of where Mike Campbell is going and ended with a celebration of where he’s been. It was a cathartic night of mourning Tom Petty’s death and celebrating that his brand of literate rock lives on through Campbell’s music vision. It was exhilaratingly joyful. Bonus: Margo Price bashing away on drums behind husband and opening act, melodic songwriter Jeremy Ivey. — Jim Patterson


Cimafunk at Austin City Limits

When Cimafunk taped his Austin City Limits debut in May, it was like watching the spirits of James Brown and Prince explode into an Afro-Cuban soul-funk supernova. The moves, the grooves, the seductive way rhythms rippled through his body … the language barrier simply melted away, replaced by pure, infectious energy. From gorgeous balladry to syncopated deliciousness, Cimafunk & the Tribe, his eight-piece, jazz-influenced band, left me crushing hard — and dancing out the door. — Lynne Margolis


JazzFest Returns

The first second line parade… the first blaring brass band … the first Cajun waltz… the first bite of a cochon de lait po’ boy… New Orleans’ JazzFest was back after three looooong years! The “headliners”? Who cares? The stuff you can’t get anywhere else was what we missed. DahkaBrakha from war-torn Ukraine, their traditional towering hats against a backdrop of the words “Won’t Bow Down,” the defiant credo of New Orleans’ Black Masking Indians? Yeah you right. — Steve Hochman


Kentucky Rising Raises $3 Million

After flash flooding decimated Eastern Kentucky in early August, Chris Stapleton organized a relief concert at Lexington’s Rupp Arena on Oct. 11 that included Kentucky all-stars Tyler Childers and Dwight Yoakam. The show’s highlight came during a star-studded finale that saw Eastern Kentucky musical paragons Ricky Skaggs and Patty Loveless join others for a rendition of John Prine’s “Paradise.” The surprise moment was a powerful reminder of how, even in the darkest of times, music has the power to lift spirits. — Matt Wickstrom


Joni Mitchell at Newport Folk Festival

After a 2015 aneurysm left Joni Mitchell having to relearn how to walk and sing, her performing days seemed over. But she had a comeback for the ages at this past July’s Newport Folk Festival, with help from Brandi Carlile and friends. Mitchell’s first full set in 23 years was an unequivocal triumph, especially the penultimate “Both Sides Now” – which had everyone there openly weeping. The moment of redemptive healing we didn’t know we needed. — David Menconi


Plains, I Walked With You a Ways

Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield and Jess Williamson teamed up to form Plains this year, and Williamson may have written the perfect millennial country song for the project (though, as country music tends to do, it’ll resonate with any generation.) “Abilene” reluctantly talks of dreams that once were — now abandoned, for one reason or another. With white picket fences being harder than ever to reach these days, “Abilene” might leave my fellow millennials crying into their avocado toast, but immediately swept back up by this wholly incredible and refreshing album. — Shelby Williamson


Caitlin Rose, CAZIMI

Before November, Caitlin Rose hadn’t released an album since 2013 — and still managed to be a “top-played” artist for me every year. CAZIMI perfectly encapsulates why: Her hummable melodies, expertly balanced instrumental twang, and smart lyrical candor make every song feel like a confessional with your wittiest friend. From the forward-looking harmonies of “Getting It Right” to the vulnerable, clear-voiced “Blameless,” CAZIMI is yet another Rose stunner I’ll be spinning for decades to come. — Dacey Orr Sivewright


Sam Shackleton on Gems on VHS

A top musical moment for me this year was watching Scottish musician and folklorist Sam Shackleton on GemsOnVHS’ YouTube channel, performing the classic song “House Carpenter” from Arthur’s Seat which overlooks his hometown of Edinburgh. I love how Shackleton’s spirited busker style puts him at ease anywhere, solo or in a crowded pub jam. His richly accented singing voice and his unpretentious banjo style shine through in this video. — Lindsey Terrell


Sister Sadie, “Diane”

So, how’s this for a storyline? The singer finds out not only that her boyfriend is a two-timing creep, but also that he’s married to her friend Diane. And in this female take on the cheating story, knowing she has betrayed a friend is what hurts most. After a sweet acapella intro, a banjo backup tells you to strap in — the bluegrass is about to take off. Great story, great vocals, great drive. – Claire Levine


Chris Stapleton & Patty Loveless at the CMA Awards

For my musical moment of 2022, I didn’t have to go too far back. At this year’s CMA Awards, Chris Stapleton and Patty Loveless joined forces on a Darrell Scott classic, a gut-wrenching song about the hardship of living in the coal country of Eastern Kentucky. I performed this song a few times in my day and it still makes me shiver when I hear the hook: “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.” — Jonny Therrien

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ2ZgQ1AP2c


Town Mountain, “Lines in the Levee”

With its first album on New West Records, Lines in the Levee, Town Mountain has broken into a new, exciting level. Based in Asheville, North Carolina, this Americana/bluegrass act is a high-octane, live-wire presence on stage. And, with this latest record, the group dug deep into its lyrical wellspring, commenting on the state of affairs in America — a melodic voice of reason amid uncertain times. In truth, after 17 years together, the band is only getting more raucous and riled up. “Lines in the Levee” has already become a staple in the concert realm. — Garret K. Woodward


Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway, “Crooked Tree”

Molly Tuttle’s “Crooked Tree” is a testament to finding strength in otherness. It’s a track that leans into traditional aesthetics while oozing Tuttle’s personality, worldview, and musical ethos — which remind of second-generation bluegrass trail blazers like Laurie Lewis and Lynn Morris. The confidence, vigor, and panache Tuttle has built with Golden Highway and on Crooked Tree are striking and widely resonant; in November, she received two Grammy nominations: Best New Artist and Best Bluegrass Album. — Justin Hiltner


Watkins Family Hour, Vol. II

I cheered about everything that went into Watkins Family Hour’s Vol. II. Not to downplay the 20-year milestone of Sean and Sara Watkins’ collaborative project but their third LP being devoted to just that, collaboration, felt like a burst of sunshine against lockdown’s darkness. Each song sounds so full of human individuality — of life. Rather than listening to a recording, I feel like I’ve walked into Largo for Watkins Family Hour’s next live show. — Kira Grunenberg


Photo Credit: NPR (Leyla McCalla); Newport Folk Festival (Joni Mitchell); Nonesuch Records (Molly Tuttle)

MIXTAPE: The Women in Roots Music Who Inspired Justin Hiltner’s ‘1992’

For the past eight or so years I’ve been making this joke that we (the music industry) should “Give women Americana.” As in, if we gave the entire genre — and bluegrass and country and old-time and folk, for that matter — to women and femmes and non-men, I wouldn’t so much miss the men and the music would certainly be well cared for and well set up for the future. 

My point, as I continue to make this joke year after year to many puzzled reactions, is that women and femme roots musicians have and will always be my favorite artists, creators, songwriters, and pickers. As I crafted my debut solo album, 1992 – often with incredibly talented women like producers and engineers (and pickers) Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, mastering engineer Anna Frick, photographer Laura E. Partain – the music that inspired, informed, and challenged me most through this release was all made by women. (Ask me sometime about my monthly Spotify playlist, Don’t Need No Man.)

When BGS approached me to make a Mixtape to celebrate 1992, I knew I had to share some of the women who helped me realize, musically, artistically, socially, emotionally, that there could be a home for me in bluegrass, largely because they had created such a home exactly for me. Here are a few of my bluegrass, old-time, and country inspirations, all of whom have filtered into this album in one way or another. – Justin Hiltner

Ola Belle Reed – “High On the Mountain”

1992 was tracked in Ashe County, North Carolina, in a little town called Lansing nestled into the Blue Ridge Mountains, right where Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina meet. I love it out there on the mountain, in the wind, in the clouds, on the rocky little road cuts and switchbacks through the hills. Lansing also happens to be the hometown of a legendary Appalachian musician and bluegrass forebear, Ola Belle Reed. A banjo she once owned and had signed hung on the wall beside me while I tracked every song. I definitely see my album as stemming from the lineage of Ola Belle, humbly and gratefully.

Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer – “Hold Each Other Up”

I’ve been so lucky to collaborate with folk icons, Grammy winners, and children’s music legends Cathy & Marcy in so many different contexts and scenarios, every single one delightful and fulfilling. They’re amazing mentors and encouragers and while we recorded 1992 we had to take the chance to channel their amazing attitudes and worldviews into a COVID-inspired (or -instigated) track, “Hold Each Other Up.” I love getting to pick and sing with these two, and their engineering, production, wisdom, and guidance all made this record possible.

Laurie Lewis – “I’m Gonna Be the Wind”

Long before I ever got the chance to tour and perform with Laurie Lewis she was a hero of mine, someone I looked up to and knew would be a bluegrass legend and stalwart who could or would accept me for who I am. Turns out, often in bluegrass, it is okay to meet your heroes, because when we met and I got to work for her, it turned out I was absolutely right. Her writing style, her artistic ethos, and the way she infuses pure bluegrass energy and her personality into everything she does reminds me I can be who I am, play the music I play, and write the way I write. This song picks me up whenever I’m down and gives me self-confidence and optimism when I need it most.

Alice Gerrard & Hazel Dickens – “Mama’s Gonna Stay”

I never had the honor of meeting Hazel before she passed in 2011, but Alice Gerrard and I have become friends over the past six years and honestly, if 17-year-old Justin knew he’d become friends with this Bluegrass Hall of Famer, he’d die. We happen to share a birthday, too. Alice is a gem, a trailblazer, an unassuming and unrelenting activist and organizer and community builder. She inspires me in all of the above, but especially in her willingness, across her entire career, to write music about things no one else was writing about. This song, which Laurie Lewis turned me onto (she performs it as well), is a perfect example.

 

 

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Elizabeth Cotten – “Wilson Rag”

Playing shows and recording totally solo is often terrifying. Especially as a bluegrass banjo player used to playing in five-piece lineups. It took many years and lots and lots of practice time and experimental shows to figure out how exactly I wanted to arrange songs, build shows, create and ride a storytelling arc during my shows, guide an audience, and do all of that confidently with just a voice and banjo. Artists and pickers like Elizabeth Cotten gave me frames of reference for what I was doing that felt solidly bluegrass, but still building a show and sound that feels fully realized and not lacking for being minimal.

Missy Raines – “Where You Found Me”

Missy Raines is another hero of mine that I feel so lucky to now call a friend. Despite coming from different generations and very different circumstances we have so much in common. It just sometimes astounds me that we can have seemingly endless conversations around if bluegrass (or country or roots music) are accepting and open; meanwhile one of the winningest pickers in the history of bluegrass and the IBMA – that is, Missy Raines – has always been both accepting and open. Who needs the sexist, homophobic, womanizing, problematic elements of bluegrass when you have absolute badass legends like Missy!? I once covered this song for a “Cover Your Friends” show and it continues to devastate me to this day.

Caroline Spence – “Scale These Walls”

When I first moved to town, Caroline Spence was one of maybe four or five people I knew in all of Nashville. We spent a lot of time together in those early years, back in 2011 and 2012, and pretty soon after that we wrote a song together, “Pieces.” We both loved it a lot, performed it here and there with different lineups and bands, but it never landed on a record ‘til now. “Scale These Walls,” from Caroline’s most recent album, is constantly stuck in my head. I love how it showcases her jaw-dropping skill for writing dead-on hooks that feel so organic and never corny. I love this song.

Molly Tuttle – “Crooked Tree”

Molly Tuttle and I wrote “Benson Street,” a track off my new album, together about five or six years ago. It’s a cute little number about longing told through the lens of an idyllic Southern summer. I love every chance I get to make music or write music with Molly. She’s a constant source of inspiration for me and proof positive that you can be a proverbial crooked tree in bluegrass and still carve a pathway to success. Plus, she’s another great example of a picker who can command an entire audience totally solo. Trying to steal tricks from Molly Tuttle? Couldn’t be me.

Rhiannon Giddens – “Following the North Star”

Rhiannon Giddens is the blueprint. When I think about my artistic future and the way I want to be able to glide between media, between contexts, between areas of expertise and subject matter, between pop and roots and so many other musical communities, I think of Rhiannon. The way she has built her career around her artistic and political perspective, so that no matter what she does it feels grounded in her personality and selfhood is exactly how I want to be as an artist and creator. Plus, I always want to be as big of a music nerd and as big of an old-time nerd as her. 

Maya de Vitry – “How Bad I Wanna Live”

Maya is one of those writers and musicians who just makes me feel seen and heard and understood, and I know I’m only one in a huge host of people who would say the same. The vulnerability and transparency in her writing and the emotional and spiritual availability within it are astounding. Plus, she’s almost always, constantly challenging herself to consider the ways she creates and makes music outside of consumerism and art as a commodity. I moved to Nashville to be challenged, musically and artistically, by those around me and I feel so lucky to have Maya around me and a member of my community.

Courtney Hartman – “Moontalk”

Courtney Hartman’s “Moontalk” makes me feel like every single song I’ve ever written about the moon is good and right and allowable. (We both have quite a few songs about the moon, actually.) “Moontalk” feels like Mary Oliver incarnate in bluegrass-informed picking and singing. It feels meditative and contemplative, but not timid or insular – something I’m always trying to accomplish in solo contexts. I’m constantly inspired by Courtney and the way she centers community building in her music and life. She’s another one who, though she thrives performing and making music solo, you know that music came from a multitude of folks pouring through her.

Dale Ann Bradley – “He’s the Last Thing On My Mind”

I thank a few artists who have inspired and influenced me in a huge way in 1992’s liner notes and Dale Ann Bradley is one of them. I feel like I am constantly ripping off and (poorly) mimicking her vocal runs, phrasing, licks, and delivery. I think she might have the best bluegrass voice of all time, or at least it’s very very high up on the list. When I first moved to town I worked as an intern at Compass Records and just getting to be a small part of the team that worked a handful of her records meant so much to me.

Lee Ann Womack – “Last Call”

Lee Ann Womack is another who I thank in the album’s liner notes, another who I emulate vocally as much as I can get away with. I used to wear out this track and this album, Call Me Crazy, listening on repeat over and over. When I found out this song was co-written by an openly gay songwriter, it rocked my world. I already heard so much queerness in LAW’s catalog, and this confirmation came at a time when I needed to feel like I was given permission to exist in bluegrass, country, and Nashville. I know now that no one needs that permission, but it was critical then.

Linda Ronstadt – “Adios”

During the 1992 recording session I recorded a solo banjo rendition of this song, one I’ve been performing for years at shows. It means so much to me and Linda’s performance is stunning in its power and tenderness, a combination I’m often striving for. I hope to release it some time soon as a single, then again on a deluxe vinyl edition of 1992. It will not be the last time I pay tribute to Linda and her incredible career and catalog – plus, she is a huge bluegrass fan! It just makes sense to me.

Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt – “Wildflowers”

When I had the pleasure of being a guest on the hit podcast Dolly Parton’s America, I sang this song and “Silver Dagger” among a few other from Dolly’s catalog that I felt had queer under/overtones. The response to my on-air picking was enormous, and there were immediate demands to release my versions of the songs. Cathy, Marcy and I recorded “Wildflowers” together during the 1992 sessions and it’s one of my favorite tracks that resulted from that week on the mountain. It’s gotten quite a lot of play, which I’m so grateful for, and always gives me an opportunity to talk about Trio and Dolly and how the story in “Wildflowers” parallels many a queer journey. It’s the perfect track to round out this Mixtape and I thank you for reading and listening along.


Photo credit: Laura E. Partain

WATCH: Joseph Decosimo, “The Fox Chase / Lost Gander”

Artist: Joseph Decosimo
Hometown: Durham, North Carolina
Song: “The Fox Chase / Lost Gander”
Album: While You Were Slumbering
Release Date: November 11, 2022
Label: Sleepy Cat Records

In Their Words: “Here’s one for all of y’all who’ve lost a dog. I recorded it at home, DIY style, singing and playing all the instruments — fiddles, banjo, pump organ — a while back, thinking it was a lovely pairing of old pieces, but when my dear dog Charlie died last August, this ballad about a dog wandering into the cosmos opened up some space for me to grieve my departed friend. I drew both pieces from the beautiful singing and playing of the Tennessee ballad singer and banjo player Dee Hicks, who sang over 400 songs — 200 of which he learned from his family. An old English hunting ballad, ‘The Fox Chase’ dates to the late 1600s but made its way with the Hicks family onto Tennessee’s Cumberland Plateau, where their hounds sounded out across the tablelands and gorges. The second piece, the ‘Lost Gander,’ is a rare, regional banjo number in a special tuning that allows the shimmering chimes that Dee Hicks said sounded like geese honking in the sky at night. My friend and label pal Gabe Anderson had his departed hound Amos in mind as he put this video together with beautiful watercolors and sketches from N.C. visual artist Larissa Wood. I grew up on the southern end of the plateau and love how her watercolors capture this special landscape.” — Joseph Decosimo


Photo Credit: Libby Rodenbough

The Show On The Road – Trampled by Turtles

This week, we call into Minnesota to talk to frontman and lead-songwriter Dave Simonett of the innovative jamgrass pioneers Trampled by Turtles.

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Celebrating a new record, Alpenglow, produced by Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, the six-piece band has gone from storming shaggy local bars in Duluth to playing their famously fast roots-n-roll in the biggest venues and festivals in the world.

Twenty years in, Simonett is keeping it fresh by letting masters like Tweedy bring his punky minor chord sensibility to the band’s warm acoustic camaraderie (bassist Tim Saxhaug, banjo player Dave Carroll, mandolinist Erik Berry, fiddle player Ryan Young, and cellist Eamonn McLain round out the group) with standout songs like “Starting Over” not shying away from the expectations that come from recognition and giving your art to the world — with the brightness of the banjo always leading the way.


Editor’s note: Trampled by Turtles is the BGS Artist of the Month for November. Check out our Essential Trampled by Turtles playlist and keep an eye out for more exclusive interviews and content throughout the month.

Photo Credit: Zoe Prinds